


learn your way around a brush

by mermaidhanji



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Family, Found Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-29 20:34:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5141618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mermaidhanji/pseuds/mermaidhanji
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frisk asks Mettaton for help with their hair and makeup.</p>
            </blockquote>





	learn your way around a brush

**Author's Note:**

> so a few days ago i made a tweet that was like 'imagine preteen frisk asking big brother mettaton to teach them to do their hair and makeup' and then my pal mari was like 'I WANNA DRAW THIS' and then drew it and it was super adorable: http://marisivoney.tumblr.com/post/132381297896/friend-ok-but-imagine-pre-teen-frisk-doing-their  
> SO i wrote a fic for it here u go

Frisk squinted in concentration at their reflection, which probably wasn’t helping their situation. Applying mascara was a lot harder than it looked. The bristles smudged thin lines of black over their blotchy eyeshadow, and their lashes didn’t fan out long and pretty like they had hoped for, but clumped together instead. They stuck their tongue out a little in their attempt to focus and recoiled immediately at the bitter taste of their lipstick, their hand going awry—  
  
Frisk yelped in pain, flinching away from the mascara wand. They heaved a frustrated sigh; that was the third time this evening they poked themself in the eye. At least this time they didn’t reach up to rub at their face and smudge everything.  
  
They examined their work in the vanity’s mirror. The mascara and eyeshadow certainly didn’t turn out, the eyeliner was shaky, and the lipstick had been rubbed off where they stuck out their tongue. Their hair had a natural wave to it already, but they tried out a curling iron anyway to see if they could get more volume and more luscious curls. What they got instead was a mass of tangles on one side of their head, as they stopped halfway through upon realizing they weren’t doing it right. But this was just their first try, and knowing they had much more to learn didn’t dampen their spirits—it only made them more determined.  
  
“Frisk!” Came a voice from down the hall, “Papyrus wanted me to tell you that dinner is...” There was a knock on their bedroom door as it was opened wider, “ready...” Mettaton’s words trailed off. Frisk waved with a sheepish smile, well aware that their attempt wasn’t exactly movie star quality. “Frisk,” He began, “You’re wearing makeup and styling your hair for the first time...” Mettaton sounded oddly serious, and Frisk’s smile faltered for a moment. “And you didn’t invite _me!”_ He burst out dramatically, his lips forming a pout and his eyes going wide and sad like a puppy. “No wonder, you look disastrous!”  
  
Their smile returned with a sigh of relief. _Can you teach me?_ They signed to him, _I don’t know how to do this stuff._  
  
“Of course!” Mettaton clapped his hands in delight, “Let’s have our first lesson now, shall we? I can help you fix up your look before we head down for dinner.” Frisk nodded excitedly, and Mettaton flashed his glittery smile. “Wonderful! Now darling, I’ll start with your hair. Do you have any mousse or detangler?” They cocked their head curiously. “It’s hair product that helps removes tangles,” He answered their unspoken question and began to comb his fingers through Frisk’s hair. “It’s alright, dear, I can get you some if you don’t have any. Could you pass me that comb?” Mettaton pointed to the comb on the vanity, and Frisk passed it back, watching and listening carefully as he began his process. “Now for removing the knots, I’m starting at the bottom of the hair and working my way up..."

* * *

 

“We’re back!” Mettaton called, his heels clicking on the floor as they walked to the kitchen together.  
  
“Where were you two?” Papyrus’ voice rang out from the kitchen, “The spaghetti was getting col—“ He cut off with an awed gasp. Frisk clasped their hands together and smiled brightly, bouncing on the balls of their feet and looking expectantly between Papyrus and Sans, who was slouched at the little kitchen table.  
  
“Oh? What’s the matter, Paps?” Mettaton asked innocently, and Frisk couldn’t help but grin excitedly. Their hair fell in sleek waves with their bangs styled to one side, which covered their eye makeup a bit, but they still thought it looked nice. Their winged eyeliner was crisp and sharp, with neutral eyeshadow to start out (lighter shades on the inner corner, darker shades on the outer corner and crease, they learned). The simple eye makeup made their pink, sparkly lip colour stand out, and the light sweep of blush brought out a natural glow, according to their expert teacher.  
  
Papyrus and Sans stared for another moment, before Papyrus leaned closer to his brother. “Psst, Sans...” He whispered none too quietly, “Did Mettaton clone himself to get more of my spaghetti?”  
  
“Bro,” Sans laughed, and Frisk giggled with him.  
  
“Well,” Papyrus huffed, “Come, Mettaton, tiny Mettaton and Sans! We will relocate to the dining room so that I may serve you all my amazing spaghetti!” He undid his apron with a flourish and picked up the serving platter before leaning over to Frisk. “Worry not, Frisk, I know it’s you!” He meant to whisper, but it still came out too loud. “You look very pretty and handsome! Prettysome!” Papyrus declared.  
  
_Thank you!_ Frisk signed quickly in their excitement.  
  
“You’re very welcome! Could you bring the plates to the dining room so that we can eat my delicious food while looking amazing? Since _someone_ probably won’t bring them along,” He glared pointedly at Sans, who shrugged nonchalantly in response.  
  
“He’s not wrong,” Sans said, and Papyrus made a sour face at his brother before sweeping off to the dining room. “I’d ruffle your hair, kiddo, but I don’t wanna mess it all up,” Sans slid out of his seat. “You look great,” Smiling wider than usual, he gave Frisk two thumbs up and sauntered away.  
  
“Good thing they know beauty when they see it, right darling?” Mettaton grinned. Frisk flipped their hair with a sly smile and struck a dramatic pose worthy of Mettaton himself. “That’s my Frisk!” He cheered and gave them a little applause as they bowed with a goofy grin, then straightened. “But in all honesty, how do you feel about your look, dear? Do you like it?” He asked as they grabbed a stack of plates.  
  
_I do,_ They held the plates in one hand to sign back, _I feel prettysome._ They spelled out the new word with an honest smile.  
  
“That’s good! What’s most important isn’t that other people like or dislike how you look, but that you feel happy and comfortable in your own skin, okay?” He said gently as he grabbed the cutlery for them. Frisk nodded in response, reaching out and giving Mettaton a one armed hug. He wasn’t particularly soft, being made of metal, but his hug in return was gentle and genuine.  
  
“You’re a sweetie, Frisk,” Mettaton patted their back. “Let’s go have dinner, shall we?” Frisk hummed in agreement, pulling away to head to the dining room. “How about later in the evening I can show you how to remove your makeup, and I’ll give you some homework: research into human skin care. I would help you myself, but alas,” He gestured to himself, “I am but a gorgeous hunk of metal.” They nodded with a laugh as they entered, setting down the plates and settling in.  
  
And as they joked, played footsie under the table and made each other smile, Frisk couldn’t help but think about how happy they were to have Mettaton in their family.


End file.
